


Out Of The Frying Pan

by sleepydanceur



Series: Jongin's Birthday Fic Countdown [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Chefs, Cooking, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 05:06:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5653477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepydanceur/pseuds/sleepydanceur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: 'We work in the same restaurant and we’re dating but we can’t tell anybody.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out Of The Frying Pan

**Author's Note:**

> D-8

“Chanyeol. We’re out of caviar.”

“On it, Chef.” 

Chanyeol sets his knife down on the chopping board where he’s cracking open some clams and disappears around back into the storage room. 

Jongin stirs the sauce in the pot in front of him, pleased with the texture. He adds a pinch of salt after tasting it before finally ladling it onto the plated meat Kyungsoo is holding out for him. 

“Where are the beans?” Jongin asks, once he sends the meat dish off to be served, searching the countertops. 

“We’re out,” Jongdae answers, looking ready to drop the chicken he’s handling to go bring some more out. Jongin throws out a hand to stop him, urging him to finish the order for the table that waiting on their chicken masala. Wiping his hands off, he heads off into the back room himself, quickening his pace once he rounds the corner, out of sight. 

He’s barely shut the door behind him before he’s pushed right up against it with Chanyeol’s mouth on his own. Jongin laughs into his mouth, winding his arms around Chanyeol’s neck and breathes him in. He pushes at the seam of Chanyeol’s lips with his tongue and Chanyeol’s mouth falls open to let him lick inside, kissing him hard. They don’t have much time but Jongin is ready to drag it out as long as he can, his breath hitching when Chanyeol pushes a thigh between his own. 

There’s a sudden noise from the other side of the door and they freeze; the drag of a trash bag being taken out into the alley. 

When it’s silent again, Jongin drops his head onto Chanyeol’s chest with a sigh.

“So who was the dumbass who came up with that no dating in the kitchen policy?” Chanyeol teases and Jongin groans. 

“Me,” he grumbles. To be fair, he _did_ stick to his own rules for a good while before his lunch breaks with his sous chef, Chanyeol, turned into flirting and lots of making out in the pantry when no one else was looking. It went on until he finally fucked Chanyeol against the kitchen counter one evening when the rest of the kitchen staff had gone home and they’d closed up for the night. He’s never scrubbed anything clean so hard in his life, a little mortified but mostly electrified by what they’d done.

They’re gonna notice something if you keep following me to the storage room all the time, you know,” Chanyeol says, pressing his lips into a spot behind Jongin’s ear to make him shudder.

“The new order of chairs for the dining room just came in, by the way,” he says, with a low tone that implies exactly what Jongin’s thinking. His pants are feeling a little too tight at the thought, and Chanyeol looks just as flushed, his pupils dilated when he looks down at Jongin’s lips. 

“Later then,” Jongin breathes against his mouth, pressing one final long kiss to his lips before pulling back reluctantly. He forgets the beans when he walks back into the kitchen. 

 

When the restaurant closes up and everyone else has left, Jongin pushes Chanyeol down on one of the brand new polished chairs and sinks down onto his cock with a groan. He sets the pace, bouncing in his lap, riding him hard to meet Chanyeol’s hips when he bucks off the chair to push in deeper. Chanyeol presses his face between Jongin’s shoulder blades, mouthing at his skin to muffle his deep moans even though no one’s around. He holds Jongin steady with an arm across his chest, letting them find a rhythm and move together until they both come so hard neither of them can move for a while. Jongin prays that no one was close enough to the restaurant windows to hear him crying out Chanyeol’s name. 

He feels a little bad, leaving the chair out here to be set up in the dining room even though he’s scrubbed it clean. Chanyeol convinces him to take it into his office instead, claiming that he needs a replacement for the old one anyway. 

“For when we try that again,” he breathes in his ear, and Jongin flushes, feeling a spike of arousal again at the thought. 

 

It's a busy night in the restaurant that evening. The kitchen is in full steam ahead, working hard to keep up with all the orders coming in. They're a full house again. 

Jongin darts around the kitchen, calling out orders that need to be dealt with and tastes something from every pot to give it the final touch and seal of approval. He nods, pleased with everything so far. It's going to be a long night; he needs it to go smoothly.

"Spinach ravioli for table seven," he calls out, yanking the order receipt off the hanger to read out the side dishes that go with it. Baekhyun throws him a thumbs up, already rolling out the pasta dough. 

"Chanyeol, where's my-"

"Way ahead of you," Chanyeol grins, sweeping past Jongin with three soup plates balanced perfectly on his arms. 

Jongin nods, satisfied and turns to survey the room again, ready for the next order to come in from the runners. 

His eyes instinctively follow Chanyeol crossing the floor to get to the table he's serving. He doesn't see the man sliding his chair back too far until he crashes right into Chanyeol, knocking him over. 

The soup plates fall right off his arm, tipping the contents all over him before tumbling to the ground and shattering. 

Everyone's head turns when Chanyeol cries out in pain, clutching his arm to his chest tightly. Jongin nearly trips over himself when he dashes out of the kitchen, crossing the room to get to him.

It's then that he registers the man standing in front of Chanyeol, holding out the lapel of his suit jacket. 

"Do you know how much this jacket costs? How are you going to fix this?"

He's scolding him loud enough that everyone else is craning their neck curiously. Chanyeol bows his head down apologetically, his face still contorted in pain.

"Is this the shitty service I get for the money I'm paying? I should have a word with whoever’s in charge.”

Jongin's blood is boiling by the time he finally makes it to the table, signalling one of the runners to bring a broom and clean up the mess. 

"I apologize for the mishap, sir," Jongin says, struggling to school his expression into neutrality. 

He turns to Chanyeol, eyeing the angry red welt already starting to swell up nastily on his arm.

"Go run that under some water," he murmurs, brows furrowing in concern. 

Chanyeol nods and steps back with another bow. The man nearly tries to lunge at him again but Jongin steps between them just in time, quietly seething. 

"You should pick your staff more carefully," the man huffs, still fiddling with the stain drops on his jacket. 

"I apologize again sir; I'll make sure your meal is on the house," Jongin grits out, bowing low again. He resists the urge to just kick him out of his restaurant. 

The man hisses through his teeth and settles back down on his seat with a sour expression on his face, barely appeased. 

Jongin retreats back to the kitchen, finding the rest of his brigade looking at him somberly, concerned about the situation. 

"Kyungsoo," Jongin calls quickly. "Run the pass for me."

Kyungsoo nods, immediately taking charge of the tickets and Jongin takes off again, heading into the back room.

He finds Chanyeol in the bathroom, grunting in pain as he holds his arm out under the running water.

“How bad is it?” he asks quietly, leaning into his good side and curls his fingers around Chanyeol’s elbow. 

Chanyeol doesn’t answer, but Jongin can see the nasty swelling stretching along his entire forearm. Luckily the rest of the soup spilled all over his front, splashing his black apron that’s just thick enough to protect his skin underneath his clothes. Jongin shifts behind him to undo the knot around his back, sliding the apron off around Chanyeol’s head while he leaves his arm under the water a little longer. 

“Maybe we should go to the hospital and get it checked out,” he tries but Chanyeol shakes his head and grinds his teeth, gripping the edge of the sink tightly. It’s hard to find the line between the pain and his frustration.

Gnawing on his lip, Jongin reaches for the first aid kit in the cabinet and grabs a towel off the shelf before shutting off the faucet.

“Come with me,” he tells him, leading Chanyeol into the locker room. He sets the box down and pats the spot on the bench beside him .

“I can do it myself, you should get back to the kitchen,” Chanyeol says as Jongin towels his arm dry gently. 

“Kyungsoo’s handling it,” Jongin pulls out a bottle of lotion, squeezing a large dollop into his hands. Chanyeol winces at the touch, even though Jongin is trying his best to be as gentle as he can. He holds on to Chanyeol’s wrist and spreads the cool lotion over the burned area, enough to massage it in without pressing down too hard. 

They’re on their last strip of gauze and Jongin uses the whole roll that’s left to bind Chanyeol’s arm gently, smoothing down the folds after every round so there aren’t any creases to add to the discomfort. Finally tucking the loose end in under the fold, Jongin dips down and presses a soft kiss to his bandaged arm. 

Chanyeol exhales, the frown drawing his brows together ebbing away.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, taking his arm back onto his lap gingerly. He looks pensive for a moment before looking up at Jongin again. “Are we in trouble?”

“I sorted it out,” Jongin reassures him, cleaning his hands off in the towel. “It’s not like he can’t afford a good drycleaner. Asshole.”

That finally draws a smile out of Chanyeol and he leans forward to press a kiss against his crown. 

“Your rage is touching,” he says, getting to his feet. “C’mon, we should get back.”

“The hell do you think _you’re_ going?” Jongin eyes him incredulously as Chanyeol starts trying to pull on a fresh apron. 

“I can still help out,” he grunts, keeping his bound arm out of the way. “I’ll be fine, I swear.”

Jongin sighs exasperatedly, knowing there’s no persuading him once he’s set his mind to it. He helps Chanyeol with the apron, tying the straps into a neat bow behind his back and presses a kiss into the back of his neck. 

 

He’s back to his old self the next day, albeit slightly more cautious with where he moves his bandaged arm. He always bounces back so easily; it’s part of what drew Jongin to him in the first place.

The restaurant is about to open and Jongin makes sure that the kitchen is prepped and ready to go. Baekhyun suddenly turns to him when he’s passing by the meat station, holding his hand up in Jongin’s face.

“Chef, I hurt my finger, will you kiss it better?”

He’s giving Jongin his best puppy face and Jongin gapes at him. “Uh-”

“I knocked my elbow on the door, Chef, do I get a kiss?”

Jongdae pops up beside him, joining it with...whatever the fuck this is. Jongin stares at them flabbergasted until it finally hits him. 

“Oh, you _fuckers_ ,” Jongin grits out, realizing they they must have seen him with Chanyeol yesterday in the back room. He groans loudly; the secret’s out then. 

“So how long has this been a thing, huh?” Baekhyun grins devilishly, a sign that he’s never going to let Jongin hear the end of it. 

He feels Chanyeol press in close behind him, sliding a hand around his waist and kisses the back of his ear, right there in the middle of the kitchen. 

“Jealous, Byun?” he challenges, and the whole kitchen erupts with catcalls and wolf whistling while Jongin buries his burning face in his hands.


End file.
